The Tower of Cirith Ungol
by SarahSweeties
Summary: What really happened to Frodo during his time in the Tower of Cirith Ungol? Here's what could have happened...


This is another ficlet I wrote a long time ago... I have edited it finally and here it is. It is the whole Tower of Cirith Ungol section, but from Frodo's perspective (not narrative, though). Hope you like, although a bit dark even for my tastes. What can I say? I have a dark side... muahahahaha... ok on with it. Big Sarah

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**The Tower of Cirith Ungol**

Frodo opened his eyes and saw strange surroundings. He was lying on a cold, hard, stone floor. The last thing he remembered was running through the tunnel and out. They were free! But this didn't seem right.

"Wha…what happened? Sam?" Frodo asked the seemingly empty room. Then he saw the orc.

"Ah! So yer awake now, my little spy," snarled the large orc. "Ho! Snaga, get up here! It's time to 'ave some fun!"

"Ay Shagrat… I'm comin', can I bring my whip? Can I? Can I?" Snaga's head popped up through the middle of the floor.

"Go ahead. You'll 'ave your laughs when I've 'ad mine. He'll not be able to scream for yeh, though," Shagrat added with an evil grin.

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"Who was with you! Answer!" Shagrat shouted in Frodo's face.

"I came alone." Frodo said with a calmness that surprised even him.

"Ha! I know yer lyin'. And for that, yeh get a punishment," Shagrat growled.

Frodo's left pinky finger was thrust into the torch. He let out a yelp, and the orc took it back out.

"When yeh woke, yeh mentioned the name 'Sam'. 'Zat the elf-warrior that's about?"

Frodo clamped his mouth shut. He then watched in fear as Shagrat unbuttoned and took off his tunic and vest. The Ring and chain were in his pocket! Frodo's eyes grew wide.

Frodo opened his mouth to say something but locked it once more when Shagrat looked at him with an icy, bone-chilling glare.

"Yeh object? Hmm… is there somethin' of value perhaps? Snaga! 'ave this brought to Luzburg immediately. There may or may not be somethin' of value."

Suddenly, Shagrat grabbed Frodo by the throat, lifting him into the air. The orc was squeezing, tighter and tighter. Frodo clawed at the hands.

_This is it,_ Frodo thought. _This is the end…_

And he was let go, thrown to the floor. Gasping for breath Frodo kneeled, knowing the quest had failed. Sauron would have the ring soon, and all would be lost. He wept. He wept for poor Sam, who was somewhere out in Mordor; for Merry and Pippin, knowing that it was they who had led the Uruk-hai away. He shed tears for Aragorn, who'd let him go, not succumbing to the pull of the ring, and Boromir, who had, and killed because of it, and for Legolas and Gimli. He shed the rest of his tears for Gandalf; fallen in Moria in vain. All of it meant nothing now.

Through of his sorrow, he heard a malicious laugh. Shagrat was amused by Frodo's pain.

"Well, apparently we won't get anythin' out of you, little one." Shagrat grinned. "Yeh know what that means? Playtime!" Shagrat lunged at Frodo but Frodo rolled to the side. Shagrat managed to get a kick in.

"'ere we go. Good little spy." Shagrat kicked Frodo with his horned boot over and over again, until his foot was tired. Then he used his balled up fists, which had thorns and spikes. Frodo couldn't even cry.

"All right. I'm done," Shagrat called to Snaga. Frodo relaxed a little, and didn't see a last blow aimed for his stomach. Then Shagrat went over to the lone chair in the room and put his feet up on the table in triumph and satisfaction.

Frodo slowly crawled to the corner and lay down in the fetal position. He was out of tears.

He thought of the Shire, once a source of pride. He'd always dreamed of settling down with a nice hobbit-lass, and maybe having several children. Now that dream had died along with the quest.

"Hey! Boss… that Gorbag deserter is still somewhere down here. As is that elf. Don'tcha think we should look 'round for 'em?" Snaga yelled, apparently from the bottom of the ladder.

"Oh, fine. I think yer jist worryin' too much, though." Shagrat said, climbing down the ladder. The door shut, and Frodo was alone. He quietly lay there, not bothering to checking his wounds. He could feel the puncture wounds all over his back and stomach. He could feel the bruising and swelling.

Suddenly, Frodo heard a faint song drifting up through the trap door. I know this song… and he tried to sing back.

"Hola! You up there, you dunghill rat! Stop yer squeaking, or I'll come and deal with you. D'you hear?"

Frodo kept quiet, not wanting to be 'dealt' with.

"All right," growled Snaga. "But I'll come and have a look at you all the same, and see what you're up to."

A couple seconds later Snaga came up through the trap door.

Frodo didn't hear what the orc was saying, but he knew to keep his mouth shut. But even though he didn't say anything, he suddenly heard a whip. He felt a stinging lash down his side.

Hope had fled…

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Hope you liked it, or at least thought it was good.  
Review if you want, don't if you don't! 


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